Of Scissors and Snow
by AnimeRANDOMNESS
Summary: Once, there was a little girl who was told a bedtime story about a boy with scissors for hands. Now, the little girl has grown up, and by a twist of fate, she finds out how true the story really was...
1. The Girl who loved Snow

_The little girl lay on her bed. Her huge pillows and comforter made her seem even smaller, almost like a doll. Her grandmother sat on a rocking chair nearby, watching the white flakes fall softly outside the window._

"_Why is it snowing, Grandma?" The little girl asked curiously, "Where does it come from?"_

"_Oh, that's a long story, sweetheart," Her grandmother replied, trying to dismiss the subject._

"_I wanna hear!" The girl said excitedly. She loved stories._

"_Well…" The older lady thought aloud, "…alright. I guess it would have to start with scissors."_

_********************************************************************************************************************_

Victoria looked out the window of her bedroom. Snowflakes were falling outside, dancing on the still night air. The girl should have been asleep, but she loved the snow. It was beautiful, mesmerizing. She couldn't take her eyes off it. Her crystal blue eyes followed a flake's graceful flight to the ground, brushing a lock of her dark mahogany hair out of her face.

After fifteen years, snow never ceased to enthrall her.

But all too soon, it was over. The flakes slowly ceased, and Victoria let out a sigh. She glanced at the clock. A bright neon 3:30 blinked back at her. She laid her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes unwillingly. She had school in the morning, after all. Ugh. School.

Victoria remembered seeing an animal documentary about a snake trying to swallow a crocodile, and exploding in the process.

That was how school made her feel.

************************************************************************************************************

"…and so, you first begin by multiplying the exponents. Twelve. Now, you divide by the three…"

Her algebra teacher scrawled more and more numbers onto the board. Some of his students were watching. Others were doodling. Most were texting their friends under their desks. Victoria was copying down everything on the board as rapidly as she could. Victoria hated math.

In the girl had her way, whatever sadist that had come up with algebra would have been shot. In fact, whoever who had come up with long division, multiplication, and fractions would have also been shot.

The rulers of the free world could thank their lucky stars that Victoria Swan could not have her way.

So she scribbled down notes furious, sweating, and trying her darndest to comprehend what in the name of Abraham Lincoln he was babbling about. It didn't help much.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of her torture. Victoria swiped all her stuff into her backpack and bolted out the door and down the hall. It was over. Another week in Hell was over.

All the other kids were laughing and chatting with their friends about their plans for the week-long break. Since Victoria had no plans, and no friends with which to discuss them, she sprinted for the door.

Except _he _was there.

"Hey, mousey! What's your hurry?" A tall, tan blond grinned, blocking her way.

Victoria tried to avoid eye contact.

"I'm just…I have to get home…"

"Why? You gonna miss your soap opera?" He laughed. His dimwitted, mountainous friends chuckled stupidly.

Her cheeks reddened, which made the blond, Carter, chuckle. Having had his fun, he moved his arm, and allowed the girl to escape. Once outside, Victoria breathed in deeply. The air was cold – very cold – and it felt soothing on her skin. The bright yellow buses were lined up in a row right outside the high school's main entrance, but Victoria opted to walk home today. It was only a few blocks, after all.

The trek home was nearly silent. The chill of the air slowly started to nip at her skin. She pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt. Mousey. That had been Carter's nickname for her, ever since they had it as a vocabulary word in fifth grade. And even though she had pleaded with him to stop, he never stopped. Recently, even the oafs that passed as his friends had started calling her it. Victoria didn't think of herself as mousey. It wasn't as if she wore coke-bottle glasses or baggy, old lady clothes. The girl wasn't exceptionally shy, or socially awkward. She just naturally didn't fit in.

The other girls were makeup-caked, athletic, and boy-crazed. Victoria did not care much for makeup, did not care much for the boys at her school, and, to put it mildly, was not athletic. And these few traits were enough to make the girls gently shun her.

Victoria didn't mind that terribly much. She was used to being alone.

She finally arrived at her house. It was the exact same house as the others, except that hers was painted sunshine yellow. Victoria had always wanted to paint it a slightly less neon color, but her mother wouldn't hear of it.

"We would stand out like a sour thumb!" She had said.

She was right. All the other houses were bright, cotton-candy shades, just like theirs. And her mother was never one to make waves.

Victoria fumbled through her pockets for the house keys. Finding them, she unlocked the door and went inside.

Their house had been made for four people, and since it only housed two, it felt large. The walls and shelves were only decorated with a few pictures and knickknacks, as if they had just moved there. In truth, they had been living here since Victoria had been born. The girl walked into the kitchen and found a note on the table.

_**Went out with friends tonight!**_

_**Got you the ingredients you asked for!**_

_**See you later, Pumpkin!**_

_**Mom**_

Victoria groaned and tossed the note into the trash. She should have known. It was Friday, and that was when Mom went out clubbing.

Most mothers didn't go clubbing. But Victoria's mother was not your typical mother. At least, not since Dad had left.

So the girl pulled out a few pans and retrieved some tomato sauce and parmesan cheese from the fridge. And a half an hour later, Victoria sat down to enjoy her spaghetti. Once finished, she retreated to her room. It was the only place in the entire house that looked as if someone actually lived there. Clothes were strewn over the floor. Posters of her favorite bands and movies lined her walls. Victoria popped her mp3 player into the speaker and went over to her list.

Victoria's mother had promised that she and Victoria would spend this entire weekend together, just them. No annoying friends, no boyfriends. Just her and her mom. So, for a month, Victoria had been planning all the possible things to do. Then, she narrowed it down to three that they would do. First, they'd go shopping downtown, and catch the late matinee movie. Then, they'd go out to eat at Victoria's favorite restaurant.

The girl checked and re-checked her list. Everything was ready. She'd packed her purse, pre-bought tickets to the movie, and even laid out her favorite outfit. Smiling happily to herself, she lay down on her bed and yawned. The snow flurry last night had kept her from getting her normal amount of sleep. But she hadn't realized how tired she really was. And now, weariness overpowered her, and Victoria fell asleep.


	2. The Broken Promise

_The little girl, holding her stuffed bunny, walked into her parent's room, where her mother was reading a novel._

"_Mommy?_

_Her mother didn't look up._

"_What is it, Victoria?"_

"_Is it true?" The little girl asked curiously._

"_Is what true?" Her mother smiled._

"_Grandma's story. About the boy with scissors for hands."_

_Her mother's smile dissolved into a frown. She shut her book._

"_Did Grandma tell you that horror story of hers? I told her not to!"_

"_Is it true, Mommy?"_

_Her mother shook her head, putting her hands on her daughter's shoulders._

"_No, of course not. It's just an old fairy-tale to scare bad children. God, how that story gave me nightmares when I was little! You just forget all about that awful story, alright?"_

"_Alright," The girl said quietly, walking back to her room. But she didn't think the story was scary at all._

_She thought it was wondrous._

Victoria woke up the next morning in a haze. After a few minutes and a couple of blinks, she remembered she had fallen asleep in her regular clothes. She changed into her planned outfit – a white blouse and her favorite light pink skirt – fixed her hair, and bounced eagerly downstairs.

"Sorry I slept in, Mom," Victoria called, hurrying into the kitchen, "I forgot to set my alarm…"  
Her mother wasn't there.

The girl blinked. After a little while, she heard noise upstairs, and went to investigate.

Her mother was in her room, humming happily, and packing clothes into a suitcase. She was trying to get dressed at the same time, but wasn't having much luck.

"Mom…?"

Her mother whirled around, beaming.

"Victoria!" She sang, catching her in her embrace. "I met _him_! _The one_!"

The girl felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

"W-What? What do you mean?"

Her mother paused long enough to put in her earrings.

"_The one_, pumpkin! The man of my dreams! My very own Prince Charming! He was at Club Shangri-La last night! And after that…"

She sighed happily, spinning around.

"…we both _knew_. We knew that we were _meant_ for each other! And guess what?! He invited me to go with him to Las Vegas! Las Vegas! Can you imagine?! It's only for the weekend, of course… "

"You can't!" Victoria blurted out suddenly. "It's _our _weekend! Don't you remember? You promised!"

Her mother paused a second, a look of regret clouding her face. Then, a second later, it was once again replaced by bliss.

"Oh, but sweetie, we can do that _any_ weekend! This is important, don't you see? He's waiting for me!"

Victoria just stood there, shocked and hurt. Not seeming to notice, her mother continued packing and humming happily, before slipping into her little black dress and hurrying downstairs, carrying her suitcase.

The girl followed after her.

"_But Mom…!_"

The woman turned around, looking slightly annoyed.

"Victoria, I already told you, I'll make it up to you. Try not to be so _selfish_."

A few loud honks were sounded.

"Ooooooh, that's Paul!" Her mother cried out, then turned to her daughter and quickly kissed her forehead, "I left you a hundred dollars on the table for anything you might need. I'll be back sometime on Monday. Love you, pumpkin. Wish me luck!"

And with that, she bolted out the door, shutting it behind her.

Victoria blinked.

Selfish?_ Selfish?!_

The woman who spent every night out barhopping since Victoria was ten, who had spent Victoria's last birthday in the arms of a strange man she didn't know, the woman who didn't give a damn about her, had just called her _selfish_.

Angry tears had forced themselves from her eyes and streamed down her flushed cheeks. Without realizing what she was doing, she had rushed back upstairs into her room, and flung herself onto her bed. She screamed into her pillow in fury, and then sobbed bitterly. When she finally calmed herself, it was two hours later. Victoria sat up on her bed, wiping away the last few tears on her cheek. The girl abruptly changed into another pair of clothes – an old pair of jeans and a bluish-gray sweater.

Victoria then walked slowly downstairs, still stinging from the blow of her mother's words. The anger had mostly passed, and an intolerable emptiness had come to replace it. She had felt this horrible hollowness only once before, when her grandmother had passed away. Victoria had cried for days on end, before finally, the tears had simply stopped coming. But what replaced them was even worse. It was like a hole in her very spirit. The girl remembered a temporary remedy she had used back then.

She needed to _do_ something.

Not just washing dishes, or taking a walk. No, she needed a project. Something big, that would keep her mind occupied until the emptiness faded.

Before, she had painted her room, a feat that took three days. But she had to do something different, this time. Something completely out of the ordinary, something she had never done before.

Victoria wracked her brain. There was always skydiving. Or swimming with sharks. Or going to Disney Land. But since all of those were out of her budget, she had to come up with something different.

The girl glanced out the window, hoping for snow. The sky was clear. Disappointed, she went to turn away, but something caught her eye.

At the very edge of all the pastel, cookie-cutter houses, there was a sea of dark trees. And somewhere, hidden up in that dark forest was the old manor. The manor from her grandmother's bedtime story.

And suddenly, Victoria knew exactly what she was going to do.


	3. The Manor on the Hill

_The little girl stared out her window anxiously, squinting to the see the old manor on the hill. The door to her room opened slowly, and her mother entered. Seeing that her young daughter was still awake, she sighed._

"_Victoria, sweetie, you're supposed to be asleep."_

"_I'm not sleepy."_

_Her mother tucked her in._

"_Yes, you are. Your eyelids are drooping."_

"_Mommy?"_

"_Yes, pumpkin?"_

"_Can we go up to the mansion on Saturday?"_

_Her mother balked._

"_That creepy old manor? Why would you want to go there?"_

"_I want to meet Edward."_

_Her mother rolled her eyes and shook her head._

"_Oh, Victoria…are you still thinking about Grandma's old story? I already told you, it isn't real. Edward doesn't exist."_

"_Yes, he does!" The child insisted, "Grandma said so!"_

"_He doesn't, sweetie. He really doesn't. No one has lived up there in a very long time. When I was younger, some of my friends from school went up there, but they didn't find anything."_

_The little girl's heart fell._

"_They didn't?"_

"_Nope. Now, I want you to promise me you won't go up there, alright? Half that place has caved in, and the floors are probably rotted through. Promise me."_

"_Alright. I promise."_

*********************************************************************************

Victoria stood beside the large stone gate, looking up the hill. The manor wasn't visible through the ivy-covered trees. Her goal had been to go and explore the old manor, the one she had promised her mother long ago she'd never go to. She didn't care about her promise anymore; promises meant nothing to her mother, so why should they mean anything to her? But now, she was having second thoughts. Everyone in Hope Springs thought the old manor was haunted. And the girl had heard frightening rumors that a serial killer had built the mansion. Supposedly, every few years, he'd marry a young bride, and then, when she ceased to amuse him, he'd kill her and hide her corpse in the walls, or under the floor boards, or burry her in the gardens. No one knew how many years it had gone on for before he had died. There might be twenty dead people in there, for all she knew.

Victoria shuttered. It was ridiculous, she knew. People would have noticed if a crazy old guy got married every other year. She shook it off, and began walking slowly up the hill. Many of the trees had died and left behind their knotted skeletons. But there were many living trees as well, towering, crooked old sycamores whose leaves blocked out the sun. A few squirrels chattered far above her.

Knowing there were living things in the woods besides herself made the girl feel some relief, and she quickened to a normal pace. It was a long, but easy hike. The road was a very slight incline, and wrapped itself around and around the mountain like a coiled snake. As she neared the top of the hill, she noticed that more and more of the forest was made up of dead trees. Stranger still, none of them had any ivy on them at all.

Finally, she rounded the last bend, and there it was. The manor was enormous and lofty, more like a medieval castle than a mansion. It was made entirely out of dark stone, with tall, narrow windows, although most of them were broken. A five foot tall wall guarded by grotesque gargoyles surrounded it.

Victoria exhaled. From her window, she could only see a dark, blurry shape. But seeing it up close…! It was magnificent and imposing, even though it was falling apart. She couldn't imagine how it must have looked in its prime. Victoria walked up to the ivy-covered gate and gently pushed. Nothing. She pushed a bit harder, thinking the ivy must have tangled around the bars. Something rattled.

Looking down, she saw that a rusty chain had been securely fastened in the gate with a padlock. No, not one. There was another at the top. Victoria's brow furrowed.

"Oh no, you don't," She hissed at the gate, "I've had _waaaaay_ too bad a day to let you get the best of me."

So she turned to the right and walked along the wall, looking for another way in. Two thirds of the way around, the girl spied a part of the wall that was missing a few of its stone bricks. Alas, she could only fit half way through, until her hips refused to go through. She pulled herself back out in disappointment, but noticed that the brick beside the hole could be wiggled. After fifteen minutes of prying, it came loose. Smiling in triumph, she squeezed through, and found herself standing beside an old statue of a hobgoblin that was missing its head. After nearly tripping on the head in question, she wandered around the back of the mansion until she found a door. It took a few bangs, but the girl finally got it open, and walked inside.

The room she had walked into was enormous, and filled with the strangest equipment that Victoria had ever seen. Upon closer inspection, she found a row of switches and buttons on one side on the room. The girl knew that she shouldn't touch it. In every movie and TV show she had ever seen, unknown buttons and levers _always_ triggered the self-destruct mechanism. However, she reasoned that no sane person would invent factory equipment with a self-destruct switch, and impulsively, she pulled down the large, middle lever.

A horrible grinding filled the air as the machines came to life. Conveyor belts began pulling. Electric mixers began whirling. Several odd mechanisms began stamping, smoothing, and cutting.

Amazed, Victoria watched the contraption. It looked like some kind of macabre torture device, but with the mixers, bowls, and oven, she realized it was a machine for baking things. Upon closer inspection, the girl noticed that every part of the machine had been crafted to look eerily alive. They had eyes, glowing red eyes. And smiles.

A shiver ran up her spine. She quickly shut off the machine, and went to explore more of the manor. The foyer was covered in an inch of dust, and the few pieces of furniture were covered. Another monstrous statue was set to guard the stairwell, but she went up any way. The stairs split in half on the way up, and Victoria headed to the right, into a hall lined with doors. Most of them were undecorated bedrooms with only beds and empty wardrobes. But the last one she checked was much different. On one side of the room was a large bed; on the other was a huge desk, piled with papers. A large bookcase sat beside it. On the walls were a few faded pictures. Victoria inched closer, peering at them. One was of a young man and a young woman. They were smiling and holding hands. The next was actually a diploma of some kind, with lots of fancy lettering and ribbons. But it was written in another language, and Victoria didn't understand a word of it. She leaned over farther to examine the last picture.

_Creak. _

Victoria whirled around. The room and doorway were empty. Her heart pounding in her chest, she cautiously peered out the door. The hallway was also empty. She breathed deeply. The old floor had just shifted. Relieved but slightly unnerved, Victoria decided to leave the master bedroom and go back to the stairs. But just as she reached the stairs, she heard something. A faint scrape. She froze.

After a few moments of silence, she permitted herself to breathe again. The girl silently kicked herself for being so stupid. The manor was at least a hundred years old, probably more. Even her own house, which wasn't that old, made noises. So it stood to reason that this place _should_ be making enough noise to scare the crap out of people. Which had led to its reputation of being haunted. Case closed.

But still, Victoria felt uneasy, as if she shouldn't be there. As if she was being watched. Guilt, she decided. She was, after all, trespassing. The girl reminded herself that the old place was abandoned, and would probably be torn down eventually anyway. Sighing at the thought, she began to walk back downstairs.

She blinked.

At the bottom of the staircase, there was a pair of footprints leading from the factory room to the stairs. But now, there was a second pair leading to the other room.

And she hadn't been in that room yet.

Her heart began to race. She should leave. Now.

Victoria hurried down the stairs and back into the room with the weird smiling factory equipment. She pulled open the door.

A loud crash shook the walls. The girl looked around, but nothing had changed. She realized it had come from the other room. It sounded as if the roof had collapsed.

Victoria halted.

The room where the footprints led. Someone had been in that room.

They could be hurt. Buried. Dying.

Her fear was instantly erased and replaced by immense worry. Without hesitation, she dashed out into the foyer and into the other room.

The roof, in fact, had not collapsed. What _had_ collapsed was a large part of the floor. No one was there. But a few fresh footprints were, along with a trail of blood drops.

"Hello?" Victoria called out automatically, following the imprints in the dust, "Hey, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

There wasn't a reply, but she could hear someone. Victoria remembered that in junior high, the boys had always been daring each other to go into the manor. It was probably a kid, who was afraid because he wasn't supposed to be there. There was an open door on the side of the room. She slipped into the darkened room.

"Look, its okay. I'm not going to tell anyone. I just want to make sure you're not hurt badly."

The girl saw something move out the corner of her eye. A dark shape was huddled in the corner of the room.

She kept her distance, trying not to frighten them. If kid was badly hurt, he or she might be in shock and not realize that they were bleeding.

"Don't be scared. There's no reason to hide. I won't tell anyone that you were up here, I swear. Just come out, and let me make sure that you're alright, okay?"

The figure fidgeted with something metallic.

Victoria held out a hand.

"Please?"

He hesitated, then stepped forward.


	4. The Boy with Scissors for Hands

_When he first opened his eyes, he had to immediately close them because of the bright light. A few moments later, he chanced it again, and saw shapes and colors. Finally, his eyes focused, and he found himself starring up at an old, finely dressed gentleman._

_The man's smile widened._

"_Well, good morning," He said warmly, "Or, more precisely, good afternoon. It's good to see that you're finally awake. Tell me, nothing hurts, does it?"_

_He shook his head._

_The man grinned boyishly._

"_Good, good! I was a bit worried about your head. That part took the longest, as you might imagine. But you even understand what I'm saying! Marvelous, marvelous!"_

_He blinked, and raised his head slightly to get a better look at himself. He was missing a few things. Like arms and legs._

"_Ah, yes, that," The old inventor sighed, looking a bit sheepish, "I __**had**__ planned on waiting until you were…eh…in one piece before I woke you up, but I'm afraid I just couldn't wait. I was simply too excited!"_

_The man's smile returned._

"_You see, I've been waiting such a long time for you. I've wanted a son for so long. So one day, I thought to myself, why not make one? And here you are!"_

_The old man reached down and tousled his hair affectionately._

"_Welcome to the world, Edward."_

He was pale, almost ghostlike, with long, coal black hair that shot up into the air. Scars plagued the expanse of his fair face. A dark leather suit, strapped in place by countless belts, buckles, and zippers, covered him from his neck to his thick, black boots. _And his hands…! _They were a mass of knives!

No, she realized suddenly, they were scissors.

Scissors for hands. _Scissorhands._

Victoria's eyes widened.

Her crystal blue eyes starred into his dark black ones. Victoria was frozen stiff. He was real. _Real_. Her mother had lead her to believe it was a just a story, a fairy tale. But here he was, standing right in front of her.

Neither of them moved nor spoke for what seemed like an eternity.

Victoria breathed sharply.

"_Wha…ah…………………erk…_"

She swallowed, and tried again.

"B-Bleeding," The girl managed, pointing at the large gash on his left arm, "You're bleeding."

The young man looked down at the wound, then turned back to Victoria, his hands snipping nervously.

She shivered instinctively. His wide black eyes and white face were startling. But he didn't look angry or psychotic. He looked terrified. Terrified of _her_.

Taking a deep breath, the girl stepped forward.

He jerked back.

"Hey, it's…it's alright," Victoria said, trying to calm him, "I just want to help. You could get really sick if that isn't fixed up."

The young man blinked.

She took that as a good sign.

"Will you…let me help you?" She asked slowly.

He paused, and then gave a small nod.

"Um…well then," Victoria said awkwardly, "I'll go find the medicine cabinet. You just…just stay here, okay?"

After much searching, the girl located a bathroom with medical supplies. She returned to the dark room where she had left him.

He was still there, looking particularly anxious. His hands began to snip when she re-entered the room. Victoria walked over to him cautiously. The young man took a step backward, but let her get closer to him.

"Can I please see your arm?" She asked.

Looking slightly less terrified, he inched forward.

"Now, this might sting a little, okay?"

She dabbed a soapy washcloth on the wound, trying to blot away the excess blood.

He winced, but didn't say anything.

After more uncomfortable silence, Victoria cleared her throat.

"So…what happened? How did you hurt yourself?"

"I fell," He said quietly.

"Oh."

A few more moments passed.

"Your name…its Edward, right?"

He looked surprised, but not pleasantly so.

"Yes."

Victoria finished dabbing, and began wrapping the bleeding gash with gauze.

"Well…my name's Victoria," She said, regretting that she hadn't let him introduce himself, "Is that too tight?"

"No."

The girl finished with the bandage and loosely tied it. Edward examined it, then looked sheepishly back at Victoria.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

There was another brief silence.

"I can leave, if you want," Victoria offered. She felt extremely uncomfortable. Not exactly fearful, but just…uncomfortable. The girl couldn't shake the feeling that she had greatly upset him.

But her words were met with a most unexpected response.

Edward quickly took a step closer to her, his scared face and wide black eyes filled with grief.

"Don't go!"

Startled, she took a step back.

Seeing that he had frightened her, he backed away a few steps, trying to hide his scissors behind his back.

"Uh…ok," Victoria said in surprise, "I'll stay."

This assurance seemed to melt away some of his anguish, but he remained rigid.

More awkward silence ensued.

It was torture for Victoria. The girl desperately wished that she was more outgoing, so that perhaps they could keep a conversation from dying. She had a million questions for the outlandish boy, but none of them could be worked into polite conversation.

"So…." Victoria started, "You live here alone?"

"Yes."

The girl remembered the one furnished room in the manor from which she had been scared away.

"So, the master bedroom upstairs...the one with all the books and papers…that's yours, right?"

"No," He said quietly, looking down. "That was Father's."

"Oh," Victoria said, biting her lip. This was why she hated talking. She never ceased to say the wrong thing. The girl quickly changed the subject.

"Um, but, where do you sleep, then?"

"The attic."

"The attic? Isn't it really cold up there at night?"

"Yes."

"So why do you sleep up there?"

Edward didn't answer; he simply snipped a few more times, not making eye contact.

"Um, never mind," She said quickly, trying to force a smile, "I sleep in a bedroom, but it's still freezing cold. The vent's broken, and Mom hasn't had time to fix it yet."

"Does it have stuffed animals?"

Victoria blinked.

"Uh, what?"

"Your room," Edward repeated, "Does it have stuffed animals?"

"Yeah, a few."

Seeing that he was interested, she decided to continue.

"There's this one stuffed bunny I've had since I was, like, two. It's really soft and white, but it's kind of falling apart. I named it Foofoo."

The corners of his dark lips twitched upward.

"Foofoo?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's stupid, I know. But I named him after this nursery rhyme I used to like. You know, "Little Bunny Foofoo"."

"I don't think it's stupid," The boy replied quickly, worried that he had offended her.

Victoria couldn't help but giggle.

"It's okay, really."

She felt her stomach unpleasantly squeeze and churn. Hunger. The girl had forgotten she hadn't eaten breakfast. She glanced down at the clock on her cell phone. It was already two o'clock in the afternoon.

"Oh, wow," Victoria exclaimed, then looked back up at the pale-faced boy.

"Hey, Edward, I'm going to go get something for lunch. Are you hungry?"

"No," He said.

A bizarre screeching sound, like gears rubbing against each other, filled the air.

The boy's eyes flew open in embarrassment, and he quickly put a scissorhand as close to his stomach as he could risk, trying to hush it.

A smile crept onto Victoria's face.

"Is that….is that your _stomach?_"

"No," He lied.

Another screech, although it was quieter this time.

"Yes," Edward admitted.


	5. The Strange New Friend

"_Well now, my boy," The old inventor said, smiling warmly, "What should we read tonight?"_

_He looked up from his bed, which his Father had lovingly tucked him into. His eyes were wide and curious._

_The inventor browsed a shelf of ancient tomes, before settling on one bound in dark brown leather._

"_Ah!" He said, a grin spreading over his wrinkled face, "Well, I was planning on reading something a bit more applicable to life, but this…this was my favorite when I was young. 'Through the Looking-Glass'. Lewis Carroll."_

_He raised an eyebrow._

"_Want to hear, Edward?"_

_The boy nodded._

_His Father sat down on a chair beside him, and, clearing his throat, flipped the book open and began to read._

_From the very first page, he thought it was wonderful, and instantly took a liking to the book's young heroine, Alice. The boy concentrated very hard, trying to absorb every word his Father read._

"…'_Do you hear the snow against the window-panes, Kitty? How nice and soft it sounds! Just as if someone was kissing the window all over outside. I wonder if the snow __**loves**__ the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, 'Go to sleep, darlings, 'till the summer comes again.'…"_

When Victoria returned to the manor an hour later, her arms were laden with Tupperware.

"You want to eat up in your room?" She asked, trying to keep a hold of her bundle.

Edward nodded, and led her once again up the stairs. But this time, they headed left, and climbed all the way up to a huge, empty wooden chamber. His bed – a torn-up mattress – was housed in a large, black fireplace. The only furnishings of the room were newspaper clippings and picture cut outs, which were mostly about hands. Edward stood in front of her, his hands snipping anxiously.

"It's…"Victoria started, about to comment on the gloomily sparse quarters, but changed it midsentence.

"It's very…roomy," She finished, forcing a smile. He looked relieved.

The girl dusted off a patch of floor and deposited her load. Then, she sat down, and Edward did the same. Then, she began popping lids off the containers.

"I wasn't sure what you like, so I brought a little bit of everything," Victoria explained, "I made grilled cheese, peanut butter and jelly, chips, strawberries, popcorn…"

She looked up.

"Anything sound good to you?"

"Yes," He replied, staring eagerly at all the food.

"Which one?"

"All of them."

"Good choice," Victoria laughed, holding out a grilled cheese sandwich, "Try this. It's one of my favorites."

Edward leaned his head forward, centimeter by centimeter, until he reached the grilled cheese. Victorious, he took a large bite, causing the melted cheese to stretch. The boy looked baffled, but finally held up one of his scissorhands and snipped the cheesy ribbons.

"Mmmmm," He mumbled, chewing happily.

Victoria couldn't help but giggle.

After he had finished off the grilled cheese, Victoria had him try the peanut butter and jelly, which he liked, except the peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth. He also was fond of the popcorn. But his favorite, by far, were the strawberries. He downed the whole carton of the sweet red fruit himself.

"Wow, you _were_ hungry," Victoria exclaimed, surveying the empty Tupperware, "Good thing I made two of the sandwiches!"

"Thank you," Edward said gratefully, the corners of his mouth twitching upward again.

Victoria stacked up the empty Tupperware.

"So…what do you do up here, all by yourself?"

"I cut," He replied.

The girl blinked.

"Cut? What do you cut?"

"Oh!" Victoria gasped, "_That's_ what you cut!"

Edward had led her out into the vast gardens just outside the front of the manor. The gardens were full of enormous hedges that had been carved into the most ornate sculptures that Victoria had ever seen. At one side of the garden, there was a delicate swan nuzzling its mate. Beside it, a dolphin was jumping out of the ocean. Two children playing. The Eiffel tower. A giant hand, extending toward the sky.

"These…Edward, these are amazing…" Victoria murmured, walking beneath the swan's neck.

"Do you like them?" Edward asked quietly, following behind her, his hands carefully held behind him.

"Like them? They're amazing! Where did you learn to _do_ this?"

"I don't know."

"Did you…" Victoria asked, spinning around, "Don't tell me you learned how to do this _yourself_?!"

Edward looked nervous.

"Is that bad?"

"No, no!" Victoria said quickly, giving him a broad smile, "It's just…wow…!"

That was just about all she could say. Wow.

Victoria kept walking through the garden, her eyes wide with awe and wonder.

"These are…so cool…so totally awesome…they're just…just amazing!"

She turned and gasped.

In the center of the garden stood an astounding ice sculpture. It was a girl in a flowing dress, her arms spread wide, dancing.

It took Victoria a few moments to start breathing again.

The sculpture was of her grandmother. Victoria didn't know why, but she knew it was. The way the girl was twirling…it was just like she used to do, the way she danced when it snowed.

"That's…that's _her_!" Victoria whispered, shocked by the dancing girl that was frozen in time.

She finally pulled her eyes away from the statue, and looked to Edward.

"You know Kim?" The pale boy asked almost frantically, his coal black eyes fixed on her. They were full of sadness, longing, hope. Love.

Edward thought that Kim was still alive.

Victoria's heart plunged into her stomache. She suddenly felt very sick.

How long had Edward been alone up here, waiting for her grandmother? Did he understand that fifty long years had passed? Since he didn't age, did he understand aging at all? Or had Edward spent all these years, waiting for the sixteen year old version of her grandmother?

"Do you know Kim?" Edward asked again, stepping closer to her. "Are you her friend? Do you go to school with her?"

Victoria's head felt nauseatingly heavy. What on earth was she to say? How could she tell him the horrible truth?

The girl looked at Edward's pleading face, so desperate for any kind of news about Kim, and realized that she couldn't do it. She just couldn't tell him.

She had to lie.

For Edward's sake.

"Y-Yes," Victoria managed, putting a hand to her temples, "I was a friend of hers…a friend of hers at school…but…but she moved…"

Victoria took a deep breath and continued.

"…she moved away with her family…a few years ago…"

Edward's face filled with sorrow.

"Kim…Kim's gone?" He asked softly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "She left…?"

Victoria felt her own heart throbbing, and put a hand on Edward's shoulder.

"It…it's okay. I miss her too."


	6. The Secret to be Kept

_"…and so, the Roman Empire crumbled, overtaken by the barbarians they had scoffed at. Thankfully, the Roman Empire was so vast, a large collection of ruins still stand to this day."_

_The inventor glanced over at the legless Edward, who was perched atop his desk. But Edward was staring intently at the wall behind him._

"_Who is she?" He asked quietly._

_The old gentleman turned to gaze at the worn photograph of a young woman._

"_Ah, that's Madeline. She was my wife, so that would make her your mother, Edward."_

_The inventor looked at the photo fondly._

"_She was the only woman I ever met that thought I might not be entirely insane. Beautiful, isn't she?"_

_Edward nodded, his lips pulled into a small smile._

"_And she had more than just looks. Madeline was clever, too. She never attended a university, but was twice as smart as the scientists graduating from them."_

_The old gentleman leaned over to Edward._

"_You've got to be careful, you know, to find someone like that. You have to be sure above all else that you love a woman for her mind, not just her beauty. Beauty fades with age, and you want to make sure that you have something else to love about her after it's gone."_

"_Will I…" Edward began, but then hesitated._

"_Go on," His father encouraged, setting down the history book._

"_Will I…love someone, too?"_

"_Of course you will!" He smiled, patting his son on the shoulder. "You'll fall in love with some special girl, and you'll fall hard. And, if you're really lucky, she'll love you back."_

Victoria lay in bed, staring at her ceiling. In one day, her life had changed, and her mind was still racing to catch up.

Edward was real. Her grandmother's stories were real. And Edward had been waiting fifty years for her grandmother to come back.

Victoria sighed wearily, remembering Edward's heartbroken face when she had told him that Kim had moved away. She hadn't wanted to leave him that way, but it had been getting late, and she thought that he would want some time alone.

_What should I do now?_ The girl wondered. Should she just leave him up there, and pretend that nothing happened? Edward had been up at the manor for decades, with little chance of being discovered. Was it for the best?

Victoria remembered Edward's grief stricken face when she had offered to leave. _"Don't go!"_, He had said. The young man hadn't been afraid of her leaving him. He had been _terrified_ of it. Even when she had left, Edward had stood at the window and watched her go. And truthfully, the girl didn't think she could just leave him all alone up there, even if she wanted to.

Should she try to acclimate him back into society? Victoria quickly dismissed that one. The first time Edward had been introduced to Hope Springs, it had ended in disaster. Though her generation prided itself on its "tolerance" and "acceptance", Victoria knew it meant talking about things behind people's backs instead of to their faces. They may accept him at first, but it wouldn't last long.

So Victoria was forced to accept option number three: keep Edward a secret.

The girl sighed, and rolled over in her bed. And, at long last, slumber came.

After a quick breakfast and some preparation, Victoria began the long trek to the manor. With her, she carried a large cardboard moving box. It didn't seem that heavy at first, but as she started up the hill, Victoria found it more and more difficult to carry.

"Stupid…weak arms…" The girl panted, trying to get a better grip on the box, "Shouldn't have…brought so much…crap…"

Thankfully, the manor was around the next bend, and she paused at the locked gates to give her arms a break. Victoria then wiggled her way through the hole she had enlarged the day before, and with a bit of effort, heaved the box through as well. She made it to the back door and pushed it open.

"Ed-ward!" She called out into the dark mansion, setting her things on the floor, "It's me, Victoria! Come on out!"

In a few minutes, the fair, pale-faced boy trudged into the room.

"You came back," He said softly, looking surprised, but pleasantly so.

"Well, yeah, of course I came back," Victoria replied, smiling, "I brought some things for you, too."

"For me?"

"Uh-huh. Some of it is just stuff for, you know, around the house…"

Seeing his curiosity, the girl promptly dumped the contents of the box on the floor.

"See?" She said, grinning up at him, "Here are some band-aids…and here's a sharpener…it's supposed to be for kitchen knives, but it will work fine…and some Rust-Be-Gone…hmmm, it's a little past its expiration date…aw well, we'll try it anyway…oh! And here's…."

Victoria pulled out a worn stuffed rabbit wearing a tiny shirt and trousers.

"…Foofoo!"

"Little bunny Foofoo!" Edward exclaimed, remembering what Victoria had said. He reached out his sheared hands delicately. The girl placed the stuffed animal in between his wrists. Edward smiled. Not just a little lip twitch, but a full blown _smile_.

Victoria felt like she had won the lottery.

After showing him the rest of the things she had brought, the girl bandaged the two fresh gashes on his face, and set to work on cleaning his rusty hands. It was hard work; Victoria had to scrub so hard that poor Edward's whole body ended up vibrating. But he didn't complain. He just sat there, flinching ever so often. Three hours later, Victoria was satisfied with her handy work, and pulled out a pre-prepared lunch of ham sandwiches and fruit salad (with extra strawberries).

Then, they talked. Well, actually, it was just Victoria who talked. The girl rattled on and on, for fear that when she'd stop, there'd be another of those awkward silences. She told him about nearly everything: her house, her school, her mom, her childhood. Edward sat listening, seemingly captivated by what Victoria considered boring and mundane. Until, of course, it happened.

"…when I was really little, like five, me and my dad really wanted to get a dog, but my mom said she was allergic to anything that poops on the floor, so…"

"Is your father nice?"

Victoria halted mid-sentence. Oh, great. Of _course_ he had to ask about her father.

"Uh…well, it's kind of complicated…"

Edward's wide eyes bored into her, until at last she sighed.

"You see, Edward…he sorta….I mean, he kind of……left us," She finished awkwardly.

"Left?" The young man asked softly, "Isn't he going to come back?"

Victoria drew a circle in the dust on the floor, evading his dark eyes.

"No…no, he's not, Edward. He barely even talks to us anymore, except on my birthday and Christmas."

"But…why?"

Victoria's face clouded with pain.

"I…I don't know. I just don't know. We were fine…at least, we seemed fine. I thought he was happy…but then, one day, he just left. Out of the blue. And he never told me or my mom why."

They sat in silence.

Finally, Victoria rubbed her eyes, looked up at her strange friend and smiled.

"It was hard, but I got through it. I mean, at least wherever he is, he's happy, right?"

Edward nodded, but was deep in thought. A few moments later, he fidgeted with his newly-cleaned hands, snipping anxiously.

"Do you think…Kim's happy?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely," The girl said quickly, "But I'm sure she still misses you a lot."

Edward brightened a little.

_You know where liars go,_ Victoria thought miserably, _You know where liars go…_

She hoped God would cut her some slack. Maybe her grandmother would put in a good word for her.

"Victoria?"

The girl looked up.

Edward's fair, pale face gazed back at her, his eyes tinged with worry.

"I'm sure your father misses you, too."

He smiled sweetly.

Victoria felt a smile form on her own face, feeling her guilt wash away. And from that moment on, the girl knew one thing for certain.

She could never, ever hurt Edward.


End file.
